Butter At The Old Price

Tlio Knickerbocker MontMy is re sponsible ior the following gooii story : Bomewhere n Connecticut thei'e is ú family by the nama of Barstow, who never were noted for clea1 linees. On the contrary, the name was proverbial for filthiness. They vvera farmers, and Mrs Barstow was engaged in iho dairy business. Hnoh week she posttd to a village near by and disposed of her butter to 'Squire Walker, who dealt in country produce and groceries, Ere long, she learned that she did not get brit half as mueh for her bulter as her neighbors were receiving, and this aroused her usually quiet temper, and hhe deiermined to demand an explanation of 'Squire Walker the next time she went trt mnrket. So the following week, with her regular atnount of butter, she presented herself at the grocer's counter, and said: " Squire Walker, what are you payiug for butter to-day ?" He opened her boxes, and, after a careful survey of the contenis, replied : "Twelve and a half cents." "Twelve and a half cents," she repeated; ' how is it that you pay Mrs. Perkins twenty cents a pound,and only allow me a ninej.ence - and this you have all along?" " Wel)," said the 'Squire, coloring up and besitating on each word, " the tuct is, Alis. Barstow, your butter is not so clean as hers, and I find it hard vyork to get lid of it at that price even, when peciple know who made it." Mrs. Barstuw, all excited, hurried hoine, notwithstanding the oppressive heat of the afternoon, and seizing the milk-strainer, and wiping the perspira tion frotu her face, she exclaiired to her dai:ghter: 1(Bdteey Ann, Squire Walker had the impudence to teil me my butter was not so clean as Nance Perkins', and now I mean to show him that I can make as ciean butter as fbe." " Do tel! ! T think I should try, er," replied Balsey Ann, sympathetically. Mrs. Barstow oommenced skimming her milk and pnuring the cream into her tall, old-fashiorwd cinun. It was all in but the last pan, when, mou.ited upon a stool, she was reaehing af'ter that; bu', nnforlunately, she slipped, and one of ber dirty ieet went down into the churn, until it brought up on the bottorn, scattering the contents in evury direolion. Es'iiouting heraell as soon a.-i possible, she coinmenced seraping the cream ÍVoin her limb, and Uir.iwing itback into the churn, slie remarktíd, in a slovv, delibera'ing tono, to her daughter, vvho was laughitig in a very unbee.orningmanner at her parent's mishrtp : " Well, Betsey Ann, I gues-t my lintter will have to go at the old price once more.'"